Future Blues
by Kimi the Great
Summary: Sequel to Bang. Spike's the leader of the Red Dragon Syndicate and something goes wrong. Rated for language. Rating may go up in later chapters for questionable content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop. I wish I did, but I don't. Please don't sue.**

**Author's note: I wasn't going to make a sequel because I liked the way my one shot ended, but I had requests and I figured out a way to make it happen. So, reviewers on **_**Bang**_** who wanted more… this is for you.**

Three years. Three god damn years. It didn't seem like he'd been running the syndicate for that long, but dates didn't lie. Spike heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his dark green hair, much easier to do now that he kept it cropped short. It all just seemed a little unreal. He never thought that he'd still be alive by 30, much less the leader of one of the strongest syndicates on Mars. It was fuckin' weird.

"Sir?" a voice said, interrupting his thoughts. "You wanted us?"

Spike lifted his head from its resting spot on his hand and sat up straight in his chair. Before him stood two of his most promising protégés, the nearly unstoppable duo Tim and Shane.

He'd found Tim within the first year of his newly acquired syndicate position. He was a delinquent living on Morocco Street then. A dark skinned, dark haired delinquent with a deadly temper and a violent streak. Spike saw potential and took the boy under his wing, teaching him to keep his anger under control and to channel it to purposes more suited to the Syndicate's taste. It was then that the boy took on the name Tim and started work as one of the rising assassins in the Syndicate.

Shane on the other hand was discovered only the prior year. His small frame and witty demeanor caught Spike's attention immediately. Shane caught on to things easily and he was damn good at improvising. And because Spike had gotten him off the street, the boy was fiercely loyal. He was perfectly suited for spying. And that's exactly what Spike used him for. Naturally Shane and Tim had ended up working together and Spike soon found that they were most effective at getting the job done. The nature of their rapport seemed a little questionable, but as long as it didn't interfere with the Syndicate, Spike was willing to let it slide.

It was for another job that the two were in front of Spike again. The White Tiger Syndicate, the only real threat to the Red Dragons was restless. They were planning something and Spike knew it. He thought it best to nip the problem in the bud. Shane had been posing as a member of the White Tigers for a while now, relaying information back to Spike while Tim had been accepted in the rival syndicate as a goon, always near Shane just in case something were to go afoul. Shane had gotten in good with the high ranking members of the Syndicate. Spike was well informed of what was happening.

"Today's the day, boys," he said addressing them. "If that info you've been giving me is correct, Shane, he'll be attacking tomorrow. You go in there and act like nothing's out of the ordinary. You make sure you get him alone before Tim makes the hit and then you two run like hell."

It was dangerous and he knew it. It could start a war between the syndicates, the likes of which hadn't been seen since Spike took over. But if he could take Nicolas Valencia out quietly, perhaps the repercussions wouldn't be so bad.

"You sure you can handle that?" he asked.

The two nodded obediently.

"Good," he said. "Now go."

Tim and Shane each gave another nod and a small salute before turning to leave and go to their duties. Spike was appreciative of obedience, but something in the back of his head was nagging him. He knew he shouldn't but in some odd way he missed being talked back to. The two were lacking a certain spunk that he was normally used to dealing with. But that was something he'd have to deal with in his new life. He couldn't expect to leave the past behind and still have parts of it around with him in the present. Things just didn't work that way.

He sighed, pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Three god damn years.

**Author's note part 2: Yeah its short, I know. But I want to have a time break, but the website's not letting me have one. So I'll have chapter 2 up soon. As always, critiques are welcome as long as they are constructive and not overly mean.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop. Never have, never will.**

"Dammit!" Spike swore angrily as another bomb went off in the building, effectively taking out another department of the Red Dragon Syndicate. He was thrown against the wall as the impact of the explosion caught up with him, causing him to let loose another string of the most colorful language known to man.

He'd been set up. Shane, unwittingly had been acting as a double agent this whole time. Spike had underestimated Nicolas Valencia's brains. He'd realized Shane was a spy and had bugged him from the start. Whenever any information was passed on to Spike, the White Tigers heard it. Any information that Spike had disclosed to Shane, the White Tigers heard it. They were fully aware of the hit that Tim was going to make and had taken advantage of it. Spike had gotten the frantic call from Tim moments before the top of the Syndicate building had been hit. And it all went down hill from there.

The communicator fuzzed again and Tim's distraught face appeared on the screen.

"Hurry boss!" he pleaded. "I don't think he's going to make it!"

Shane's troubled breathing was audible, even from off screen. They'd shot Shane. They'd actually shot both Shane and Tim, but Shane took the worst of it. A leg wound was nothing to a shot in the gut.

"I'm coming," Spike said, jumping over a bit of debris that had just fallen in his path. "I'm trying to save my own ass first! Try and keep him alive."

Tim gave a choked up "Affirmative" and Spike jammed the communicator back in his coat pocket. This was just his luck.

He'd just made it out of the building when its supports decided to give way and send most of the building crashing down on itself. A lot of the Syndicate members managed to escape in time, but there was a heavy death toll. But Spike didn't have time for that now. He barked out orders to take a head count, make sure no one was hurt badly, and then to call the ISSP. They'd be more than happy to help what with the information the Red Dragons had been supplying them. They were a crime syndicate, but they were at least trying to make Mars better. If it had to be done with assassinations and crooked deals with the police, then so be it. It was for the greater good anyway.

As soon as his orders were underway, Spike dashed off towards the hanger, hoping to whatever god was out there that his ship was alright. The hanger itself had underwent minimal damage in the bombings and the Swordfish II only had a few scratches and dents on it, nothing that couldn't be fixed, and still ran fine. He hopped into it, revved the engines and went zooming off towards the headquarters of his rival syndicate.

He pulled his communicator out again to reach Tim.

"Where are you?" he asked.

Tim only dignified it with nearly unintelligible sobs.

"He's dead!" he cried. "Bastards killed Shane! He's dead!"

"Pull yourself together, ass!" Spike shouted. He knew it was rough, but Tim could grieve later. There were slightly more pressing matters at hand. "Where are you?"

Tim only sobbed more and Spike could make out the word "dead" occasionally.

"God dammit, I'll kill you myself if you don't tell me where the hell you are!" Spike shouted in a very threatening and final tone.

Tim tried to make himself intelligible as quickly as he could and choked out a location in an alley not far from the White Tiger headquarters. Spike put his communicator away and sped off towards said alley. He landed the Swordfish extremely well for being so rushed and quickly jumped out to where Tim was still on the ground, cradling Shane's lifeless body.

"Come on, get in the ship," Spike said. "No sense in losing the both of you."

"No," Tim said. "I'm staying here with him."

"He's dead, Tim," Spike growled. "Get in the Swordfish."

"No," Tim said, and Spike was taken aback. Tim had never defied him before.

"Those bastards killed Shane," Tim continued, gently dropping Shane to the ground, grabbing his own gun and trying to stand up on both legs without showing that it was hurting him to do so. "When they come back out, I'll kill them. I'll kill them all."

"Don't be stupid," Spike said. "You're good, but you're not that good. They'll have you down before you can get three of their men."

"They killed Shane," Tim repeated. "I don't care if they kill me now. But I'm taking as many of them down as I can. Especially Valencia. He was the one that got Shane."

Spike narrowed his eyes and watched him as Tim made sure his gun was loaded. He didn't help him when the boy took a step forward, landed on his wounded leg and fell down to the ground again.

"Do you see how ridiculous you're being?" Spike asked. "You won't do Shane any good this way. I won't have another of my protégés killed today. If you want your revenge so bad, let me take it for you. You just get in the Swordfish and wait."

"You'll die too," Tim said. "And then where will we all be? Just let me die. I'm not that important."

Spike gave a biting laugh.

"Don't you know who I am?" he asked. "I've cheated death three times. I'm practically immortal."

Tim started to protest, but Spike silenced him with a look.

"I'll get this Valencia guy," he said. "I don't like it when any one messes with anything that's mine, underlings included. Especially promising ones."

He picked Tim's gun off from off of the ground and pulled his own out.

"I'll be out in twenty minutes," Spike said. "You can count on that."

Tim through bleary eyes as his boss ran off right into the literal den of tigers. There wasn't a chance of anyone getting out of that one alive.

"Good luck, Swimming Bird" he said weakly as he saw the lanky figure disappear into the building. "Good luck."

**Author's note: It's a short one again, but I think its effective. Don't worry, the rest of the Bebop cast is going to come in soon. Tim and Shane aren't going to be main characters. They're just catalysts. Everyone you love is coming in soon. I promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop. ******

"So, Valencia," Spike said coolly, lighting a cigarette with one hand while using the other to hold his gun up to the syndicate leader's head. "You ever been shot in the head?"

He had the bastard right where he wanted him: on his knees, hands behind his back where they couldn't reach anything, and sweating like a pig.

"This is a mistake," Nicolas Valencia said, trying not to sound scared. "You'll start a war you know."

"There's hardly any of your men left to fight mine," Spike said, shaking some of the ashes off on Valencia's head. "I saw to that on the way up here."

And he wasn't lying. Spike had left a trail of wounded and dying men scattered about the building all the way up to the top.

"We have alliances with other syndicates," Valencia said. "You kill me, you'll bring them all into this."

"I doubt it," Spike answered. "You're syndicate's the only real rival. If anyone else even tries to stand up to us, we'll crush them, no problem."

Valencia gulped. He knew Spike was right.

Spike finished his cigarette and smashed it out on Valencia's desk.

"Enough of this chit chat," Spike said. "Any last words before your brains are splattered on the wall opposite us?"

Valencia winced visibly as Spike pushed the gun against his head harder.

"5… 4…3…" Spike counted.

"This won't stop with me," Valencia cried. "I'm not the top. This goes deeper than you know, Swimming Bird."

And without any further warning, Spike shot him. Right in the head. And just to be sure, he shot him again.

"What the hell was he talking about?" Spike asked aloud. But he soon shook it off. He had a bleeding assassin on his hands.

By the time Spike had managed to get back out into the alley, Tim had managed to crawl into the Swordfish, dragging the lifeless body of his comrade in along with him.

"You get him?" Tim asked, his voice shaky and strained.

"Yeah," Spike said calmly, getting into the Swordfish and closing the top. "I got him."

And without any more words Spike took off towards what was left of the Red Dragon Syndicate.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Sometime later, a bewildered Spike sat in his new makeshift office. He had been flipping through the stations on his television when something caught his eye. He'd heard that Big Shots had been cancelled and now it was replaced with a more up to date show which was basically the same thing. He swore he'd never watch another bounty hunting show; he'd put his past behind him, but when he heard the host mention "Swimming Bird" he had to break his vow.

"You may have heard about those attacks on Mars earlier this week," the host said. "Sources say they were caused by a mysterious man calling himself Swimming Bird. Not much is known about him. We only have a description from a witness. He's tall and lanky and has short dark green hair. Be on the lookout folks. This one's worth a whopping 6 hundred million woolongs."

Spike flipped the television off, lit up a cigarette, and smoked it faster than he'd ever smoked before. This was quite a predicament…

**Author's Note: Its soooooo short. I'm sorry. More stuff'll happen next time, I promise!**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop

**Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop**

"Swimming Bird?" Jet Black mused, scratching his grizzled beard. "Since when are they going by nicknames?"

This was a big bounty and Jet knew it. With that kind of cash, he wouldn't need to worry about anything for a while. And since he didn't have anybody else to take care of, he'd be well set for a long time.

He flipped the television off and stretched out on the couch. He sat in silence for a while, listening to the hums and whirs of the mechanisms making the ship run. In three years, it still amazed him at how quiet the Bebop could be. There was no bickering echoing throughout the ship, no odd singing coming from random nooks at strange hours, and no damn dog barking around, nails clacking against everything. It was just Jet and his bonsai plants and that's all he needed.

Speaking of the bonsai plants, it was time for their daily watering. Jet swung his legs off of the couch and lifted himself up gingerly. Not having anyone young to keep up with was getting to him. He was ashamed of himself really. A 39 year old shouldn't be feeling this ancient. He was getting lazy.

He shuffled over to the bonsai plants at an easy pace. He wasn't rushing at all. He didn't have anyone bothering him about jumping to get the bounty right away. Right now, it was just him and his bonsai plants.

"That's right," he sighed, sitting down in front of his plants for the umpteenth time this week. "Just me and my bonsai plants."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Faye looked out from above her hands of cards, her emerald eyes scanning the players in front of her. She'd eliminated most of the players at her table. There were only two left, both wealthy business men who spent the majority of their time in the Casino. She'd seen them before. They were actually regulars at her table. She hated those men. They couldn't get it in their thick skulls that Faye wasn't going to fall for their compliments and advances. She was better than that.

"You sure you wanna stay in little lady?" The larger of the two business men said, addressing her. "I'd hate to see you lose."

"You say that everytime," Faye said, putting on a flirty façade. "But you still haven't beaten me."

"This time's different," the man said. "You can't beat this hand with all your tricks in the world."

"We'll see about that," Faye smiled and then turned her attention to the other man. "Would you like to stay in?"

The other man grumbled and threw his cards down. "I fold."

"Just you and me then," Faye said, returning her attention to the other man.

"Guess so," he said smiling confidently.

If Faye could roll her eyes without giving herself away, she'd have done so. Instead, she continued to smile, her gaze distracting him as she barely moved her wrist. But it was enough for her purposes.

"Show your cards then," Faye said.

"Four of a kind," the man grinned, laying his hand out. "Jacks at that."

"Wow," Faye said in mock disbelief. "That _is _a good hand."

The business man gave a chuckle as Faye bit her lip uncertainly.

"Too bad I have a straight flush or you would have beaten me," she said, laying out her hand, five cards from six to ten, all in the same suit. "Better luck next time."

The man's smile immediately disappeared as Faye raked in the chips, separating them by color in their slots.

"I don't know how you do it," he said. "But you're cheating. I know you are."

"Please sir," Faye said as innocently as she could. "Our casino only hires the most honest of dealers. If your skill doesn't match the dealer's then that's not cheating. You just need more practice. We're highly trained you know."

"Yeah," the man grumbled, walking off. "Trained in swindling everyone out of their money."

Faye ignored the comment and continued to clean up. She looked up towards the giant clock on the wall of the casino and silently rejoiced. It was quitting time. She waited for a while before Johnny came to take her place at the poker table and then went to clock out. She said goodbye to her colleagues and then left.

Faye hated the winter, or at least really cold weather; brought back bad memories. But then again, living on Mars brought back bad memories as well. She had to admit, she was a bit of a masochist.

She pulled her coat tighter around her body, silently rejoicing that her work clothes were a little more substantial than what she normally wore. She was so cold she couldn't even bother herself to move her hair out of her face when it started to obstruct her vision. She'd been meaning to get a haircut, but she was starting to get used to the way she looked with longer hair. Since she adopted the nickname Poker Alice at the Casino, she even got a strange little kick out of wearing a black ribbon in her hair, reminiscent of the Alice in Wonderland cartoon, a movie that was old when she was young now almost 100 years old. It was little things like that that made her day. And she needed her day made a lot lately.

She'd given up bounty hunting two and a half years ago. She tried, she did. She felt bad for leaving Jet, but she really had nothing left there for her. She tried to play it cool the day she left, giving her usual confident, snarky comment, but she was sure Jet could see right through it. After all, with Ed and Ein gone, the two were left alone and had learned a lot about each other with no other distractions in the way.

She was used to the risk involved in the bounty hunting lifestyle and frankly any other job bored her. The next best thing she had was to go back to the Casino. There wasn't a threat of death or starvation, but there was still a little rush, wondering if the people at her table would catch her cheating. Sometimes she almost wanted them too, but they never did and that was probably for the best. Every dealer cheated and the administration knew it. But if one ever got caught they'd have to let them go to save face.

Faye let out a sigh and suddenly realized just how much she was craving a cancer stick. So much that she would actually risk getting her hands cold to smoke it. That was nicotine for you. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette which she immediately placed in her mouth. As she rummaged around for her lighter, she happened to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the pedestrian traffic. She accidentally bumped into someone going the opposite direction and fell down.

"What the hell?" she demanded, not looking up but at the ground (she'd lost her damn lighter, what shitty luck).

The man she bumped into (she could tell it was a man by the size of his feet) looked at her for a second and without further ado walked off just as quickly as he had come.

"You ass!" she cried, finding her lighter. "I'm a lady you know! The least you could do is ask me if I'm alright!"

She stood up angrily to get a good look at the man, but he was already far away by then. The only thing she could make out of him was his tall, lanky figure and general air of being a jackass (of course that could have just been her being prejudiced). And then he was swept away in the sea of people.

Faye huffed angrily, but realized that wouldn't do anything. People on Mars were jerks. It was time she learned that. Even she couldn't expect to be helped. What a sad state humanity was when beautiful women weren't waited on hand and foot anymore. She sighed and put her lighter to use, lighting up her cigarette and taking a giant puff of it before finishing her trudge home to her shitty apartment.

**Author's Note: See? Jet and Faye! Characters you love! And a longer chapter! Yay!**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop

**Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop! Don't sue!**

Another day, another hour spent with the bonsai plants. Jet sometimes admitted to himself that he needed a new hobby. Now was one of those times. It was getting a little on the pathetic side.

Jet sighed to himself as he picked up his shears to trim his precious plants. He really needed to get to work on finding that bounty. It'd be nice to have that kind of money. But what kind of criminal went by the name of Swimming Bird? That was going to be a tough one.

"Dammit," he swore as he cut off the wrong branch of his bonsai (although this mishap was not the cause of his outburst). "This is going to be impossible! Swimming Bird can't be a real name!"

He grumbled a bit before finally putting down his shears, afraid to maim the rest of his bonsai trees. This was frustrating. He had the vague sense that he'd heard the name Swimming Bird before but he didn't know where. Jet was getting nowhere fast.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"House wins," Faye said, showing her amazingly nice hand to the players opposite her. "So sorry, sirs."

"Yeah, whatever," the gamblers groaned, each tossing their chips at her and grumbling under their breath.

"Anyone for another round or are you all out?" she asked looking around.

A few of the gamblers stayed, hoping beyond hope that somehow she'd mess up and they'd finally get a chance to beat her at her own game. Most, however, realized they had no hope and left.

"Alright then," Faye said, shuffling the deck of cards. "If that's it then…"

"Wait." A hand slapped down on the table to secure its spot in the game. "Deal me in."

Faye's eyes followed the broad, calloused hand, up the arm, over the shoulder, finally resting on the man's face. From what she could see, he was quite handsome. Then again, she was only judging by what she could see. He had a sharp, chiseled jaw and nice lips, pulled back in a cocky little smirk, and a nice-looking nose. His eyes were covered by dark black sunglasses and his dark hair was cropped short on his head. He was wearing a suit… a slick, expensive one at that. This guy was going to be a high roller. She could tell.

"Minimum starting bet is 10,000 woolongs," Faye said, handing out the cards. "Is that fine?"

"That low?" the man said. "And I thought this was a nice place. What say we raise the starting bet up to 20,000?"

He tossed the equivalent of 20,000 woolongs in poker chips on the table. Faye looked around at the rest of the players. This wasn't exactly part of the rules, but she was certain she could win it all back.

"No one objects of course?" she asked, looking around. The other players grunted and tossed more chips in. "Alright then. Let's begin."

The game went on as usual with only one minor flaw in Faye's system: the high roller. She couldn't tell if he was very good at poker, or incredibly stupid. He would always raise the bets ridiculously high, whether he had a good hand or not (and more often it was not). However, when Faye thought she had figured out his style of playing, he'd change it up a bit. Whenever she assumed something about his hand, she always turned out wrong. She was actually losing money off of this guy. His cockiness made her angry and his smug little smile unnerved her. The casino had rules whenever someone like this came along. You were supposed to discreetly threaten them by mentioning having someone escort them home that night. But something about this guy made a familiar feeling rise in her gut, a feeling that if she gave up she'd lose whatever high ground she had and she wouldn't be able to live with herself. And so she played on.

There were only the two of them left now. She'd have to be careful. She couldn't lose now. The stakes were too high. She had been cheating the entire game, but now Faye would have to pull her most daring cheat to date. She'd actually never used it before now, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She dealt the cards out carefully, making sure she got every card where it needed to be.

"You know the stakes," she said, eyes flicking up to his shades from behind her cards. "4,000,000 woolongs."

The man nodded and placed two of the cards face down on the table. Faye quickly dealt him too more before fixing her own deck as well. The man added another pile of chips in and Faye matched him.

"You're pretty sure of yourself," the man said, his smile just as confident as it had been when he walked up to the table. "You think you can handle losing?"

"I don't have to worry about that," Faye said. "Its time to show your hand, sir. And I just so happen to have a royal flush."

She spread her cards out on the table. A steady hand and quick, subtle movements had given Faye the upper hand. Before her in shiny plastic coated cards were five cards, Ace to ten, all in descending order and in the suit of spades.

"Now what was that about losing?" she asked, smiling at the small look of wonder on the man's face, the only expression he'd shown that night other than jackass.

"That is impressive," the man said in awe. "But something's a little off don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" Faye asked. "I won fair and square. You can't beat that."

"Its just that it seems a little odd that the deck would have five Aces," he said, laying his cards down. Four of a kind. Aces. _Fuck._

"How?" Faye asked, eyes wide in shock. She was certain she'd dealt the cards right. There was no way she could have botched this one.

"I wouldn't pride myself as the best cheater in the room unless you know who you're dealing with, Faye Valentine," the man said, lowering his shades finally to look her in the eye.

She could have fainted. She was seeing a ghost. Surely she was. She'd been playing poker this whole time with a ghost. She knew why this man had sent such a familiar lurch in her stomach earlier. This man _was _familiar. It wasn't everyday that you saw someone with those mismatched brown eyes.

Without even stopping to clean up the chips and clock out, Faye immediately ran. It was too much. Too unreal. Spike was dead and that was that. He wasn't coming back. She was hallucinating. She was… oh God, it wasn't true.

She didn't even stop to check and see if he was following her. She didn't stop for her boss. She didn't stop for traffic. She didn't stop to apologize to children she knocked down. She didn't stop until she was back in her own apartment, leaning backwards against the door, huffing and puffing as she tried to catch her breath. She slouched against the door and slid to the floor in exhaustion. And then the tears came.

It had been three years. _Three years._ She'd moved on. She was over him. He didn't want her anyway. He proved that when he went chasing a dream all those years ago instead of living the life that he should have. But he was back. He was back and she ran. He was back, she ran, and she cried. This… this was wrong.

She sat against the door for a few moments, trying to recompose herself. She was being silly. This wasn't what strong people did. This was what weak people did, and Faye wasn't weak. When she was sure that she was quite done, she stood up and made her way towards the bathroom to touch up the makeup she'd so foolishly ruined and tame her windblown hair. She had a phone call to make and she wasn't going to look less than perfect. It wasn't her way.

**Author's note: Oooooh, it just got interesting. Special thanks to Almighty Sempai for helping me make Spike extra sexy. You guys should read her work. She's hella good.**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop is not mine

**Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop is not mine. Don't sue, please.**

Jet had meant to get started on that bounty head, he really had. But somehow he drifted off and found himself taking a nap. He was losing it, he really was. His communicator went off and Jet opened one eye, peering towards where it was lying on the table.

"Dammit," he swore. "Just as I got comfortable."

He'd been talking to himself a lot lately. Either to himself or his plants.

"Jet!" a familiar voice cried out. "Jet, it's me! Pick up!"

"Hold your horses," Jet said, sitting up, grabbing his communicator and greeting Faye for the first time in months. "I'm not sending you any more money. You quit and that means I don't have to split the bounty any more."

"No, no, no," Faye said. "I don't need money."

Jet raised an eyebrow and scratched his head. Faye? Not needing money? This was something new.

"Then what?"

Faye seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"Spike…" she said, her voice almost catching for a moment. Almost. "He never did come back, did he?"

"No Faye," Jet said, his voice quiet, but stern. "You know that."

Faye seemed momentarily to withdraw into herself. "I wonder why…"

"Why?" Jet said, thoroughly confused by this point. "Because he's dead, Faye. He can't come back anywhere!"

Really, he knew Faye had had a thing for Spike, but it had been three years. It was getting pathetic.

"I know," she said, still a little lost in thought. "It's just…"

"What?" Jet said, annoyed that she wasn't entirely paying attention to him. "It's just what?"

"I… I thought I saw him today," she said, turning her attention back on Jet. "At my table. It had to be him. No one else can cheat like that."

"What?" Jet asked, still bewildered. "Faye, what are you talking about? Spike's dead."

"No," she said earnestly. "I don't think he is! He said my name! It had to be him!"

"Faye, everyone who's ever even considered bounty hunting knows your name." he said. "It couldn't have been Spike."

"Maybe…" Faye bit her lip and looked down towards the corner of the screen. "But… keep an eye open, will you?"

"For what?"

"Just keep an eye out, Jet," Faye said before hanging up the communicator.

"That woman is crazy," Jet said, tossing his communicator aside. Spike was dead. That was it. One thing he couldn't weasel himself out of.

He sighed and leaned back on the couch, propping his boots up on the table next to him. The impact of his boot on the table made everything on it jump a bit and by some chance happening, the television jolted on. Jet hadn't watched TV since the bounty hunting show was on a few days before, so it was still on the station. Jet only half way watched the show as he sat stewing in his own thoughts.

"Swimming Bird is still on the loose," the host said. "We've only got one lead on him: he's probably stationed in Mars. Because he's so dangerous and still hasn't been caught, the ISSP has decided to double the bounty, making him worth a whopping 1.2 billion woolongs. Good luck and congratulations to whoever finds him."

Jet popped out of his thoughts quickly. With that type of money, he'd be set for good. He flipped the TV off and picked up his communicator to call Faye again. She was on Mars. He could tell her to be on the lookout for a tall, green haired man…

Shit. Now he knew why Swimming Bird sounded familiar. There was an old Indian man… Laughing Bull, wasn't it? Spike used to visit him quite a bit. Jet had even gone himself a few times. Always gave people names, refusing to call them by their given names. Jet was sure that's why he thought he'd heard Swimming Bird before. Laughing Bull had given Spike that name. He was sure of it.

Or at least, he was pretty sure. He'd have to check… and there was only one person he knew who could get information that most people wouldn't. He just hoped that person would still be interested.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The girl and her dog were stretched out on a rock, sweating out the mid day heat. It was hot. It was always hot on Earth now. Something about the ozone layer and pollution. Or something.

"Ugh," the girl said, drawing the sound out as she raised a brown arm to her eyes to shield them from the sun. "So hot."

The dog, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi (a worthless mongrel, really), gave an agreeing whimper. In response, the girl's stomach growled loudly.

"We need food, too," the girl said. "Food, food, foody, food."

The dog gave another whimper and crawled closer to the girl's head where he promptly flopped forward with his tongue hanging out.

The silence of the afternoon was broken by the girl's computer, which was open beside her, the screen saver of fish and octopi swimming around being replaced by a video box of Jet Black.

"Edward," he said. "Edward, wake up!"

The girl instantly shot up, as if she hadn't been lethargic at all.

"Jet!" she said happily, spinning around to face the computer. "You haven't called in 90 moons! This is exciting! Ein's excited too, aren't you?"

The dog gave a woof of agreement.

"Um, I didn't know you were counting, Edward," Jet said.

"Wasn't." Ed said, showing that weird catlike grin she often had. Jet expected her to explain, but she didn't. She simply flopped forward onto her stomach and propped her head up on her head. She continued speaking in a sing song voice. "Jet called for something, something! What did Jet call for?"

"I need you to find someone for me," Jet said.

"Ooooh," Ed said, looking mischievous. "Jet wants to stalk someone, naughty naughty."

"No," Jet corrected.

"A bounty then?" Ed asked, perking up. "Jet wants help with a bounty?"

"Sort of," Jet answered. "I need you to find all you can about a man calling himself Swimming Bird."

"Swimming Bird?" Ed and Ein both cocked their heads in confusion, almost in the exact same way. "Is that an online handle?"

"I don't think so," Jet said. "He's on Mars somewhere. See if you can find anything about him."

"Hmmmm," Ed said, scooting to her keyboard and furiously clacking away as she tried her damndest to hack into whatever she could. After a few moments a look of despair came over her face. "Tomato, noooooo!"

"What?" Jet asked. "Can't you find his records?"

"Tomato," the poor girl lamented, gesturing towards her computer. "Tomato needs to be updated!"

Radical Edward was still the greatest hacker of her time, but her computer, Tomato wasn't exactly up to speed anymore. She couldn't afford the parts to keep it updated with the latest software, and all the overclocking in the world couldn't keep it in the condition it needed to be in to do the hacking that this type of thing required.

"Can't you just fix it yourself?" Jet asked. "You seem to be good at that sort of thing."

"Nope, nope, nope," Ed moped. "No more money. Got hungry."

Jet sighed. If anyone could find anything, it would have been Edward. It was a blow to find her crippled like this. Not only could she not keep her programs up to date, but the poor girl seemed to be doing poorly on the food front. It was pitiful.

"I'll make you a deal, Edward," he said, drawing the girl and the dog out from their self-pity. "If I give you money for new parts, you'll help me."

"Can't," Ed said. "Don't sell the parts here. Gotta go out there." She gestured vaguely towards the sky.

Jet grumbled. The only way Ed could get into space was through him. He'd have to fly out to Earth and pick her up. This Swimming Bird guy had to be Spike, things surrounding this situation were too troublesome for this not to be.

"Send me your coordinates, Ed," Jet said. "I'm coming for you."

Ed laughed as Ein danced a little jig around her.

"Sending, sending through the space tubes," Ed sang. "Bebop's coming! Bebop's coming!"

Jet rolled his eyes. No doubt it was cute that she was so happy to be rejoining the crew (or lack thereof), but Jet could sense a headache coming on.

Once he successfully got her coordinates, he programmed them into the ship and put the ship on autopilot. He walked towards one of the spare rooms in his ship, waded through the junk and finally found a box of things he'd packed away. He ripped the box open and dug around until he finally found what he was looking for: a silver bowl with 'Ein' inscribed on it. He tucked the bowl under his arm and wandered towards the kitchen. Might as well have some food waiting for them when they came aboard.

**Author's Note:** **Way longer than usual. This makes me happy. Yay! All the characters are re-introduced! Huzzah and all that jazz! Once again, thanks to my wonderfully awesome Beta reader, Almighty Sempai. Read her stuff and bug her until she updates her story! :D**


	7. Chapter 7

Dislcaimer: Cowboy Bebop is not mine

**Dislcaimer: Cowboy Bebop is not mine.**

Ed was sitting Indian style on the floor at the table in front of the television. The way she wolfed down the food (bell peppers and beef minus the beef) made Jet wonder how much food she was actually getting back on Earth. But she was eating now, so Jet didn't have to worry about her starving at the moment. When she had finished her plate, she let out an almighty burp and fell backwards on to the ground with a happy sigh.

"Yum-yum," she said in a little sing song voice. "Jet makes good food, right Ein?"

The dog didn't give a responding bark, as he had his face jammed in his food bowl, desperately licking the smallest morsels out of the bottom.

"Ein thinks the food's good too," Ed said.

"So where's the nearest place where we can get these parts you need?" Jet asked, grabbing Ed's plate and putting it on the ground so Ein could lick the juices.

Ed sat straight up again in that odd sharp way she moved and thought.

"Ed thinks there's part shops on all planets except Earth," she finally decided. "But Ed doesn't know which is closest."

"You think there's one on Mars?" Jet asked.

"Mmmmm, maybe-maybe," Ed replied.

"Well that's where we're headed," Jet decided, picking up the now clean plate off of the floor and starting to walk towards the kitchen. "We might be able to meet up with that bounty before we get your new parts if we're lucky."

But Ed wasn't listening. She'd crawled off of the floor onto the yellow couch, curled into a ball and promptly fell asleep. Jet sighed and rolled his eyes, but he wasn't really annoyed at the girl at all.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Faye had gotten an angry phone call from her boss. That was the only reason she was going back to work that day. She didn't want to risk seeing anything upsetting like the other night, but she needed the cash income.

So, quite against her will, she found herself donning her work uniform again and heading out in the cold winter air to go off to work. Nothing eventful happened on her way to work. Nothing eventful happened clocking in to work. Nothing eventful happened during the first part of her shift. She was beginning to think she had maybe imagined the whole scenario the other night, but of course, something had ended up happening just before her shift ended to rattle her once again.

She only had time for one last game before her shift ended. She was in the process of dealing out the cards when at the last minute, a familiar hand placed itself on the table, demanding to be included in the game. He was wearing another suit, but this time, a nice black pinstriped one. Once again, his handsome face was hidden behind dark glasses and this time, his dark messy hair was hidden underneath a slick black fedora. He could try to hide himself under all the nice clothes that he wanted, but Faye knew who he was now. Spike wouldn't surprise her again.

She dealt him in without showing any signs of recognition, but she couldn't help her hands shaking just a little as she handled the cards. She and Spike didn't speak much, only talking when it was appropriate for the game. The tension between them caused the other players to become nervous and fold more quickly than usual. Soon it was the two of them left, duking it out once again to see who was the better cheater.

"Why are you here?" she finally said under her breath as she arranged her hand.

"Why not?" he answered coolly.

"Dammit, Spike, you're supposed to be dead," she hissed.

"I'm supposed to be," he agreed. "But I'm not. I'm guessing that's why you ran away the other night. I hope I didn't scare you too much."

The catlike grin and cocky attitude combined with the remark on what Faye saw as a weakness made a familiar burning feeling rise in her gut. She threw down two cards impatiently which he swapped out for two that were in his hand.

"No need to get impatient," he remarked, slipping his glasses down the bridge of his nose so he could look at her over them. "That was a sincere hope just now."

"Why did you come back?" she asked angrily.

"Sometimes it's nice to see familiar faces," he said, throwing a pile of chips into the middle of the table. Faye met automatically matched it, not even looking at anything on the table by this point. "I would have thought you of all people would sympathize with that."

"It's been three years, asshole," she said. "Three years. We all thought you were dead. If you really wanted to see anyone familiar, you wouldn't have waited that long. What do you really want?"

"You've found me out," Spike said. "Alright, I admit. I got myself into a sticky situation and now I need help out of it. That's why I'm here."

"That's no different from normal," she spat. They weren't even pretending to play the game anymore.

"No, this time's different," Spike said seriously. "I can't tell you about it here."

He threw down his cards and shoved all of his chips her way.

"I fold," he said, getting up suddenly. "Find me if you want to help. I promise there's a reward involved."

"Wait," she called to him as he started to walk off. "Where am I supposed to find you?"

"It's in the cards," he said disappearing into the crowd.

Faye raised a confused eyebrow and looked down at the cards he'd thrown upon the table. She grabbed them and saw, sandwiched between another Royal Flush, a dingy brown slip of paper with an address scrawled on it in messy black ink.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

In the middle of then night, Jet was woken up suddenly by the sense of someone's presence that shouldn't have been there. He opened his eyes only to find Ed's face peering over the edge of the bed, something smiling in her orange eyes. He jumped up with a yelp and she didn't even move.

"Faye-Faye called for you!" she said excitedly. "Do we get to go see Faye-Faye?"

"What?" Jet said, trying to get his heart rate back down to normal.

"On the communicator!" Ed said, holding it up, revealing a very anxious looking Faye on the screen. "She wants us to come!"

Jet snatched the communicator out of Ed's hand.

"What do you want Faye?"

"You need to come here _now,_" she stressed, looking very determined. "I know for a fact it's him."

"Slow down Faye," Jet said a bit stupidly (after all, he'd just woken up and was a little dazed and confused). "Who are you talking about?"

"Spike!" she said. "It's him, Jet. I saw him again. He talked to me."

"Faye, I told you, he's…"

"I know what you told me," Faye interrupted. "But it's him all the same. Get over here right away."

And before Jet had any time to protest or talk some sense into her, Faye's screen flipped off and Jet sighed.

"Do we get to see Faye-Faye and Spike?" Ed asked, still smiling.

"Spike's dead, Ed," Jet said. "Don't get delusional like Faye. We're going to go see what the hell she's talking about, but she _can't_ be seeing Spike."

But as Jet watched Ed run out of his room to go find Ein to tell him the news, he found himself not entirely believing his own words.

**Author's Note: Special thanks once again go to my beta reader and best buddy Almighty Sempai. However, this particular chapter is dedicated to PenandpaperPoet who leaves me nice encouraging reviews. :3 Thank you!**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop's not mine, sadly

**Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop's not mine, sadly.**

Faye didn't go to the address Spike gave her at all that night. She'd gone back to her room to think things over and wait for Jet. She was curious to know why Spike needed her help after all these years, but she was sure it was dangerous. Extra dangerous in fact. Spike had a nasty habit of rushing into things bigger than he could handle. If he knew for a fact that he needed help… well, this was big. And if it was this big, Faye didn't want to go alone.

She was sure Spike had wanted her to come immediately after her shift was over, but damn it, the bastard could wait. After what he'd done to her, after what he'd made her believe, yes, he could wait. She took out a cigarette and lit up as she awaited a call from Jet telling her he'd arrived.

This was going to be weird seeing everyone again. It wasn't as though Faye had completely cutoff contact with Jet. She still called him when she needed money and Jet still called her if he ever needed help with a bounty. It was just an unspoken rule that she'd never team up permanently since Spike left. But now Spike was back, throwing everything out of kilter. Hell, even the little brat and her dog were back. Just like old times. But Faye didn't know if the old times were too far gone for everything to be comfortable again. Teaming up with a dead man, someone she swore never to team up with again, and someone who'd left on her own accord didn't exactly reek of happy fun adventure time.

In about three cigarette's time, she finally got the call from Jet. Faye snubbed her light out, pulled on her coat, and (with one last glance at herself in the mirror) left to meet them.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Faye-Faye! Faye-Faye!" Ed called out, launching herself at the older woman.

"Damn it, Ed! Get off!" Faye said, trying to pry the teen off of her. "And for the last time, it's Faye! Just one!"

"Faye-Faye!" Ed smiled, letting go. She looked around excitedly. "Where's Spike?"

"Spike's dead," Jet said, coming out of the Bebop and tucking a gun into his belt. "Don't let Faye tell you otherwise."

Faye glared at Jet, silencing any other comment he may have had.

"We're going to see Spike," Faye said to Ed. "Don't let Jet tell you otherwise."

Ed responded with a laugh and twirled away back to the Bebop to retrieve Ein.

"I know you think you saw him, Faye," Jet said coldly once Ed was out of range. "But there's just no way. There can't be."

"How do you know?" Faye retorted. "Did you see his body? Did you make sure he was dead? Because I seem to remember you assuming the worst and then leaving."

"Faye, no one could survive that!"

"He did," she said stubbornly. "I know it."

She rummaged around in her pockets momentarily until she found what he was looking for.

"He came to my table earlier this afternoon," she said, holding the dingy slip of paper out to Jet. "He gave me this address and told me to meet him there. He needs help with something, but he wouldn't tell me what it was."

Jet took the paper from Faye and tried to recall all of his old ISSP skills to analyze it. The handwriting was Spike's familiar chicken scratch, or at least a very good facsimile of it. Jet's old eyes couldn't see all of the details close enough for him to fully recognize it. Plus, he hadn't really studied Spike's handwriting all that well anyway. So he was loathe to trust it.

"I don't think you should go, Faye," Jet said, handing the paper back over to her. "I think someone's just playing a nasty trick on you. This won't end well."

"You just won't listen," Faye sighed. "It's Spike, Jet. He's alive, and I don't care what you say. I'm going to see him tonight."

"Well, have fun getting killed, or robbed, or worse," Jet answered. "I wash my hands of it."

"Ein's here, Faye-Faye!" Ed called out happily as she jumped out of the Bebop, the dog's head sticking out of her backpack. "We're all ready to go see Spike!"

"I told you," Jet said harshly. "We're not going to see Spike!"

Ed's eyes widened as she jumped back a bit at Jet's comment. Ein let out a small whimper.

"Come on," he continued. "We're going to get those parts you need."

Ed looked towards Faye questioningly, but Faye said nothing. She reluctantly followed Jet towards the city to get the parts she needed as Faye turned and left in the opposite direction, towards the address that Spike had left her.

**Author's Note: This chapter was supposed to be A LOT LONGER, but I decided to split it up into two chapters. This means 2 chapters for you tonight (once I finish up chapter 9). Thanks again to my lovely beta reader Almighty Sempai. And you guys are awesome. Your reviews make me happy. :3**


	9. Chapter 9

Faye had never been to that side of town before

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bebop. Please don't sue. D:**

Faye had never been to that side of town before, and for good reason. It was a rather seedy place. Of course, she had no qualms about going into seedy places, she just preferred not to as it was hard to keep up a classy appearance there.

"Of course the lunkhead would be here," she grumbled pulling her jacket around her body tightly. "This is exactly his style."

She followed the numbers on the sides of the buildings until at last she came to the address written on her paper, a dark brown building that looked in dire need of repair. She sighed walked up the stoop, tossing the cigarette she was smoking down on to the ground before knocking. A sharply dressed man answered the door, glaring at her questioningly with his green eyes.

Faye held up the slip of paper. "I was invited."

"Wait here," the man said, and then closed the door in her face. He returned moments later and let her in. "Go up the stairs, first door to the left." And with that, he disappeared off into the shadows of the dimly lit foyer.

Even though it was warmer inside of the building, Faye pulled her coat even tighter around her body and made her way upstairs. She briefly considered knocking on the door before entering but decided that she didn't owe Spike politeness.

She let herself into the room expecting to catch him off guard, but instead finding Spike lounged out on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through television stations, not even dressed for company. He was in his slacks and suspenders, his shirt untucked in random places and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. And it was so hard to be impressed by someone with holey socks.

"You're late," he commented, shutting the television off and turning around to face her. "Your shift ended three hours ago."

Faye didn't even bother to ask how he knew her work schedule. "I had some things to do."

"What, like get yourself all nice and pretty for me?" he asked grinning a cocky grin. "Aww, Faye, you shouldn't have."

"You're such an ass, Spike," she spat. "You're lucky I came here at all. I don't have to help you with anything."

"You don't have to," Spike said. "But you will."

"What makes you so sure?" Faye said, narrowing her eyes. "I might just remember how much of a lunkhead you are and leave you to your own fate."

"This makes me sure," Spike said, reaching in his pocket and pulling out an obscenely fat wad of woolongs. "And I've got more where this came from. Lots more."

Faye greedily sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"Keep talking."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Jeez, Ed," Jet complained as he watched the girl eagerly install the new parts in her computer. "Those were pricey. You better be able to help me find that bounty head."

"Don't worry, worry!" Ed sang as she finished installing the last of it. "Tomato should be A-okay now!"

Ein gave an agreeing bark and they all three gathered around the computer as it booted up. Ed's fingers clacked rapidly across the keys, testing out the new hardware and smiling with glee when it worked.

"Alright, Swimming Bird," Jet said, staring intently at the screen. "From Mars. See if you can find anything."

"Yes sir, cap-i-tan!" Ed said in a faux naval accent, accenting it with a little salute. She immediately leaned forward and typed even faster than before. Images scanned across the screen and boxes popped up and Ed processed the information faster than Jet could even see it. The older man had to sit back against the couch and stare at the ceiling until his head stopped spinning. After more than a few minutes, he heard a triumphant bark from Ein.

"Bingo! Bingo!" Ed shouted. "I found the prize! Swimming Bird! Swimming Bird!"

"Huh?" Jet asked, venturing a look at the computer again. "You found him?"

"Swimming Bird," Ed read aloud happily. "Elusive leader of the Red Dragon Syndicate. Came into power 3 years ago under mysteeeeeerious circumstances. No one knows his real name. Has a really good relationship with the ISSP."

"So this is his first offense?" Jet asked, scanning the screen for any other records. "I mean, other than running a crime syndicate."

"It seems so," Ed said, scrolling down the page. "He's a good guy bad guy."

"Ed that doesn't even make sense," Jet said. "Are there any pictures of him on the page?"

"Nope, nope," Ed answered. "Buuuuut…"

"But what?" Jet asked.

"Tomato's new parts can get us far!" She smiled. And to show that she could, she immediately started hacking further into the ISSP's files, going deep into the encrypted ones that she'd never been able to get to before.

"Oh, these pictures are useless," Jet groaned. "You can't even see his face."

"Don't be hasty, Mr. Pasty," Ed giggled. "Tomato can fix it!"

"How?" Jet asked. "How can you possibly fix that?"

"With software!" Ed said as if she was revealing some big secret. "Tomato can do it automatically now."

Jet raised an eyebrow as Ed typed the commands into the computer and then watched in awe as the computer fixed the picture, bit by bit, pixel by pixel, until the face of Swimming Bird became clear.

"I'll be damned," Jet breathed. "It really is him. It's…"

"Spike!" Ed squealed. "Faye-Faye was right!"

She immediately shut her computer, placed it in her backpack, grabbed Ein and began to dance around Jet.

"Lets go, Jet!" Ed sang. "Come ooooon! We have to go see Spike and Faye-Faye!"

"How in the hell is he still alive?" Jet sat, still staring at the screen in disbelief. "It… it's just not possible!"

But Jet's musing got in the way of Ed and Ein's adventure. The dog jumped out of Ed's hands and landed teeth first right on Jet's leg.

"Dammit!" Jet swore loudly. "Alright, alright! We're leaving!"

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Wow, Bounty Hunter Spike has a bounty on his head now," Faye said, taking a sip of the drink that one of Spike's henchmen had brought in earlier. "It's so poetically ironic, don't you think?"

"I was calling it bullshit," Spike said, lighting up a cigarette. "But you can call it irony if you want."

"So why did this Valencia guy want you out of the picture so badly?" Faye asked. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Spike said. "Don't give me that look, I'm serious. When I was still on the Bebop, Vicious had some men of their syndicate killed after they'd just made an inter-syndicate peace treaty. I don't know why he took revenge when he did. On me of all people. And I don't know what he meant when he said that it went deeper than him. I don't know what I did to make this go deeper."

"Well come on, Spike," Faye said. "You're not exactly and innocent. You're bound to have some enemies out there left."

"Yeah, but none like this," Spike answered. "And none that can afford to make the ISSP pay 1.2 billion woolongs."

Faye nearly choked on her drink.

"Fuck Spike!" She cried. "I think I'll turn you in myself!"

"You won't do it," Spike said confidently, but giving her a warning glance just in case. "I know you won't."

"Why?" Faye asked, putting her glass down and staring him directly in the mismatched eyes, almost as if to challenge him. "Give me one reason why I won't."

But instead of answering, Spike looked up at the ceiling questioningly.

"Did you hear that?"

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Ed was singing some sort of nonsense song to Ein in the back of the Hammerhead. This gave Jet time to think some more. It couldn't be Spike. It just couldn't possibly be. Even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, he couldn't believe it. Maybe it was just a fluke in the system, the strange way the pixels worked. It couldn't be right. It just couldn't be. Spike would have had to be immortal.

"Jeeeeet," Ed said, poking him in the back of the head. "Veer left."

"What?" Jet asked, coming out of his thoughts, just in time to miss getting rammed into by a speeding ship. "Damn! What's that all about?"

"Fishy, fishy," Ed said, not even phased by the whole thing. "When you see a stranger, follow him."

"I'm not following him," Jet said. "I thought you wanted to find Faye."

"Faye-Faye went that way," Ed said pointing towards the trail of smoke the speeding ship had left. "Follow hiiiiim!"

Jet rolled his eyes and continued in the direction he had been going until a small disturbance caused him to do a double take. The small disturbance actually being a sizeable explosion.

"Oh what the hell now?" Jet roared, turning the Hammerhead a sharp 90 degrees, and heading off into the direction of the explosion, the direction Ed had indicated to begin with. "Bastard better not have chosen now to die. Again."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Hear what?" Faye asked, looking around, confused. "Spike, don't change the subject!"

But Spike's only answer was to leap off of the couch and tackle her, covering her body with his own, bracing himself as the building around them exploded into a fiery furnace of doom.

**Author's Note: Thanks to my lovely beta reader, Almighty Sempai. Although, I kind of think this chapter is dumb. It took me too long to write it and I'm sleepy and tired. So I hope that you guys like it so I'll feel better about having written it. :3**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Bebop

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bebop. There'd be more naked Spike. A lot more.**

"Shit!" Jet swore as he landed his ship next to the crumbled building. Outside, stern looking men in dark suits congregated around the building. A young dark haired man was shouting orders frantically at a few of them as they cautiously searched through the rubble.

"Stay here, Ed," Jet said, jumping out of the Hammerhead and running towards the fray. Naturally, the girl and the dog didn't listen and hopped out of the ship and ran after him.

"What's going on?" Jet asked the man who seemed to be in charge.

"Step aside sir," the younger man said, giving Jet a stern look and pushing him back. "This doesn't concern you."

"Like hell it doesn't," He said, knocking the man's hand away. "There's someone I know in there."

"That's the case with all of us," The man said. "Step aside, we're handling this."

The young man and Jet engaged in a very short glaring match before they were interrupted by the presence of a taller, thin man.

"We looked everywhere, Tim," the man said. "We couldn't find him."

"Look harder," Tim growled.

"We did," the man protested. "He just wasn't there."

"Bullshit, Roger," Tim snarled. "Look harder."

Jet rolled his eyes as the two men argued. He looked down at Ed by his side and she gave him a knowing grin. Immediately, the two ran off towards the debris to form their own search party. Roger and Tim didn't even notice.

"Faye-Faye!" Ed called out. "Where aaaaaaare you?"

"Damn it, Faye!" Jet swore. "You just had to get involved, didn't you?"

Ein let out a series of barks, his own way of calling out to the missing woman's name. The three continued to sort through the debris, occasionally calling out Faye's name. Finally, they got a response in the form of a low moan from under a giant pile of rubble.

"Here! Here!" Ed called out to Jet. "Come help!"

Jet leaped over to where Ed was standing and quickly started removing piles of rock and concrete. Jet caught a glimpse of fabric and had a glimmer of hope.

"Stand back, Ed," he warned. "You don't need to get trapped under these rocks too."

Ed gave a small salute, scooped Ein up, and took a giant step backwards as Jet threw rubble aside franticly. As more rocks were removed, two bodies, still braced for impact were revealed. The larger body, the one on top, groaned again, obviously feeling the pain of the building that had crashed down over them. The smaller body was clutching the larger one for dear life, eyes closed as tightly as they could, body tensed up in anticipation.

"The hell?" Jet asked in disbelief.

"Lookie, lookie!" Ed sang out, pointing to the two bodies. "Nookie, nookie!"

Jet almost turned to ask Ed where she picked up that kind of language when the larger of the two bodies spoke.

"Are you going to stand there speculating, or help us up?"

Jet couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. Bastard was supposed to be dead, and there he was, alive. Barely alive at the moment, but alive just the same. Jet stooped down to help Spike stand up as Ed twirled around them.

"There!" Tim called out, suddenly stopping his argument with Roger. "There! I think they've found him!"

It didn't take very long at all until a small troop of men stampeded over towards them to relieve Jet of his hold on Spike, freeing his arms so he could help Faye up.

"Urrrrk," Faye groaned as she stood up shakily. "I told you he was still alive."

"Now's not the time, Faye," Jet growled under his breath.

"Faye-Faye was right," Ed sang out. "Faye-Faye was right!"

Jet shot the girl a glare, which didn't faze her at all. Instead, she continued on in her sing-song voice and started to dance her way towards the group of men fussing over Spike.

"Its okay," Spike was protesting. "Just a few broken ribs and some bruises. I'm fine, really, let me go."

"But, sir, you're coughing up blood," Tim said.

"Its nothing," Spike said impatiently, pushing some of his men aside as he finished another coughing spurt. "Really, I've had worse."

"He has," Jet said, coming up behind them along with Faye and Ed. "I can attest to that."

The group of men turned towards the trio questioningly, unconsciously shielding their leader with their body.

"Step aside!" Spike ordered, stumbling towards them. "They're friends of mine."

The group warily stood aside and left a little opening for Spike to stumble towards the others.

"You okay?" he asked, nodding towards Faye as he clutched his chest in pain.

"I'll be fine," she said. "But you…"

Spike made a dismissive noise, not entirely convincing, as tiny flecks of blood spurted from his lips as he did so. "Like I said, I've had worse."

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Jet asked bluntly. He was still a tad bit in shock from seeing what he thought was a dead man walking around. This comment brought a few questioning stares from Spike's men, and Spike lowered his voice as he answered.

"Let's keep that on the down-low for now," he said. "I'll tell you everything later."

"You don't look like you're up for a later," Jet continued. "I think you really might die this time."

"No, no," Spike said, turning towards his men. "Tim! Roger! Come here!"

The dark young man and the skinny man from before immediately rushed to his side and caught him as Spike's strength failed him and he semi-collapsed backwards.

"Get me somewhere safe," he said to them. "Them too. Make sure the woman's alright. Give the others food if they want it. No one's to give them any trouble, got it?"

"Sir," Tim said, nodding in agreement while Roger hurriedly barked orders for the accommodations of Faye, Jet, and Ed.

**Author's Note: Special thanks again go to my beta reader Almighty Sempai. You guys should read and review her story Memories of You. Its reeeeeally good. And also, thanks to you guys who read and review me. I'm afraid I might have disappointed in this chapter, as its almost final exam week and I'm sort of stressed out. And also, when I write the chapter over a period of a week instead of all at once I end up not liking it that much. I hope you guys do. I'll try to do better next time. Don't expect an update next week, Finals. XP**


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop

**Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop.**

"I have to admit," Jet said, looking around. "This is a nice place."

Spike's goons had managed to secure a room for them in a hotel that was surprisingly nice for being in the middle of a slum. Although why people kept giving rooms to the Red Dragons when so much of their stuff seemed prone to spontaneous combustion was beyond anyone.

"The boss always likes to accommodate his guests nicely," the man called Roger answered. "Is their anything else I can get for you?"

"I'm fine," Jet said, turning to Faye. "You need anything?"

"Another drink would be nice," Faye said, lounging on a couch and taking full advantage of Spike's generosity. Her wounds were not as bad as they seemed and after a few drinks, she'd stopped being so jumpy. Now she was just accepting as much free alcohol as she could.

"She doesn't need another drink," Jet said, before Roger left. "Just water."

Roger gave a curt nod and exited the room, much to Faye's chagrin.

"Why'd you have to go and do that?" she demanded. "I wasn't spending your money."

"Booze is bad for boo boos," Ed said absent mindedly as she stretched across the carpeted floor with Ein.

"What she said," Jet answered, sitting on the edge of the only bed in the room. "I sure hope we're not staying here tonight. There's not enough room for us all here."

"Ed can sleep on the floor," Ed chimed up.

"Faye can't," Faye answered. "And Faye doesn't share beds."

Jet grumbled and stood up from Faye's apparent resting place. Moments later, Roger returned with a large bottle of water and an empty wine glass. Because all fancy places let you drink water out of a wine glass. He opened the bottle and poured a small glass for Faye.

"Would you like to hold the bottle, or should I put it somewhere else?" Roger asked her.

"On the end table over there," she pointed, taking a sip of the water and pouting because it wasn't going to get her drunk. "The one next to the girl. Leave it there in case she wants some."

Roger dutifully obeyed a look of anger barely hidden on his face. He was used to being an underling, but he wasn't used to being a servant. He was only doing this on strict orders from his boss. As he walked towards the end table, Ein, who was very near his feet, let out a low menacing growl.

"Ein!" Ed cried out in surprise. "No! Don't growl at Mr. Mash!"

"Its Nash," Roger answered, dropping the bottle on the table and eyeing the dog suspiciously. "Roger Nash. And tell your dog to stop."

Ein's voice had grown louder.

"Ein! No!" she said. "Leave Mr. Mashy-mash alone!"

"Its _Nash_, kid," he said, getting annoyed.

"It won't do any good," Faye butted in. "Once she's decided on a name for you, there's no changing it. Oh really, Ein! You're giving me a headache!"

The sudden outburst from Faye quieted the dog.

"You know this hotel doesn't normally allow dogs," Roger said, glancing sidelong at Ein angrily. "If he's not on his best behavior, even Swimming Bird can't keep him in."

"He's not normally like that," Jet answered. "I don't know what's gotten in to him."

Roger made a noise of displeasure. "Either way, keep him under control."

Jet gave a nod as Ed scooped Ein into her arms and chastised him. And with that, Roger Nash was gone.

"Well he seemed pleasant," Jet said sarcastically.

"You would be like that too if that lunkhead was your boss," Faye said, downing the rest of her water and setting the glass aside. "I bet he had a nice room set up in that place before Spike went and got it bombed."

"I still can't believe he's alive," Jet said. "It's all so weird. Did he tell you why he's still here and not six feet under like he's supposed to?"

"No I didn't," came a strained voice. They all turned their heads towards the door to see a heavily bandaged Spike supporting himself against the doorway. "This whole fiasco happened before I got the chance to tell her."

"Jesus, Spike!" Jet cried, jumping up to help him. "You're barely alive enough as it is, don't push your luck!"

"That's what I told him!" Tim's frantic voice chimed in from behind. "But he wouldn't listen!"

"I _told _you," Spike said impatiently. "I'll be fine. I wanted to see them."

"We could have brought them to your room, sir!"

"Go away, Tim," Spike said. "I'm here now and there's nothing you can do about it."

Tim stood in the doorway, looking like a confused puppy.

"Go!"

Tim gave a half-hearted nod and scurried off.

"Best damn assassin I've ever seen," Spike commented as Jet dropped him into one of the empty chairs in the room. "But since his partner died, he's been gone upstairs. Can't do anything unless he's on orders now. And he's so damn clingy."

"Are you going to explain to us why you're still alive?" Jet asked. "Or are you going to give us the rundown on the rest of your underlings while you're at it."

"Impatient much?" Spike asked. "Light me a cigarette someone, will you?"

Faye rummaged around in her pocket until she found a cigarette. She put it to her mouth and lit it before passing it on to Spike who took a long drag out of it.

"Blergh, you're cigarettes taste like ass, Faye," he commented.

"Come on," she ignored him. "I want to know too. Why aren't you dead?"

"It's not that interesting of a story," he said nonchalantly. "Roger here saved me from the brink of death and all that. Nothing special."

"Roger Mash!" Ed piped in. Ein gave a small, unfriendly bark.

"Nash," Spike corrected.

"He doesn't seem the caring type," Jet answered.

"Ah, he'll grow on you," Spike said. "Hell of an underling. He knows stuff. He helped set me up in this position, you know."

"Why didn't he take it himself?" Faye asked. "I would have."

"Because not everyone is as selfish as you," Spike said, turning his gaze towards her, causing her to look away grumpily. "Besides, he's not suited for the leadership position. Can't handle the risk. Someone's always out to get you when you're the boss, as you can tell."

"Yeah, about that," Jet said. "What was with the suicide pilot bombing you?"

"Suicide pilot?" Spike raised his eyebrow. "Fuck, they're really serious about this now."

Ed gave a giggle at Spike's use of the swear word, but no one paid her any mind.

"Serious about what?" Jet asked.

"I've been set up, Jet," Spike said. "You've no doubt heard about that bounty on me?"

"On Swimming Bird, you mean," he answered. "Nice pseudonym by the way. I didn't even realize it was you."

"That was the point," Spike said. "But anyway, there's a bounty on my head that's ridiculously high and it's there for no reason. Our main headquarters got bombed a once before and I thought I got the people behind it. Instead I got a bounty and another bombing. I just happened to run into Faye and decided to try and get her help. She ended up bringing you guys, something very good on her part."

"But what do you want us to do about it?" Jet asked. "We're just as lost as you are."

"Four sets of eyes are better than one," Spike said. But when Ein gave an impatient bark, Spike corrected himself. "Five sets of eyes. Just stay on the look out. The Syndicate and I are the targets, you should be safe. It should be easier for you to sneak around without having someone constantly watching your every move."

"Then don't you think it's a little suspicious that you've got us all booked into this hotel under the Syndicate's name?" Jet asked. "Won't they find us?"

"You're not staying here," he said. "None of us are. I booked these rooms so that whoever's watching me knows I'm alive. But you're all going to stay somewhere else. "I've already had Tim dump some money in your accounts. Book a room somewhere else under a false name or something. You should be fine."

"If you want them to stop exploding everything you're related to, don't you think you should have gotten a room incognito?" Faye asked.

"Faye, tsk-tsk," Spike said in a disappointed tone, but giving her a wry grin. "That wouldn't be my style at all, would it?"

"Lunkhead," Faye grumbled beneath her breath.

**Author's Note: Exams have been over for about 4 weeks. I sat around at home for two weeks catching up on all the sleep I lost over the semester and I just got back from Disney World. I'm about to go to Ireland for about 6 weeks, so I figured I had best leave you guys with something, even if its just this. I'll try to write more before I leave. Thanks for waiting on me, you guys. You're the best! Also, I couldn't get in touch with my beta reader, so it's only been proofread by me! GASP! Hope it's not too bad. I'll pimp my beta reader out anyway. Almighty Sempai. Read her stuff and pester her into writing her next part. Kimi out!**


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